I can't tell him to leave me alone because he's a customer. As long as he's in Macady’s, I have to treat him like royalty.
“I… I’m okay,” I tell him unconvincingly.
He stands there, now allowing himself to lean on the wall with his left shoulder.
“Is there anything that I can do for you?”
A hug. Everything inside of me wants to ask for a hug. Anytime I was ever sad, that's what he would do.
He would hold me, justholdme, until I cried out all the stress. Then he would kiss my face and then we’d make love.
He's so pretty. Look at him, all dressed up in his spiffy little suit.
Well, maybe it's not a suit. It's more like a black dress shirt, or a deep blue that almost looks black. His pants are ironed and jet-black.
“Excuse me,” I say, prepared to go to the bathroom to get away from him.
I go into the girls’ bathroom and just cry. Because I miss him.
It's okay to admit that I miss my husband.
Ex-husband.
That ship has sailed. It has a new captain.
Even when I entertained the possibilities of us ever getting back together, I would never trust him again.
Andwhat?
Would we have to spend the rest of our lives in constant mistrust?
He would spend the rest of his life trying to earn back my trust, and I would spend the rest of it not trusting him or always doubting him or believing that the minute I let my guard down and finally trusted him again, he would just hurt me again.
People always say that cheaters will always cheat a second time.
What is to stop him from doing this again?
And on top of it, he still works with that stupid fucking bitch out there.
Even if we did get back together, Sarah is in his life, and she will be for the foreseeable future. And even if that weren't the case, and he could put those boundaries back that he claimed he did all those times ago… how would I deal with the entire internet rooting for my man to be with someone else?
So many times I wanted to clear things up and put them on blast and come out as the wife and say that Lincoln cheated on me with Sarah.
That Sarah was a homewrecker.
These people were straight up writing awful things about me like, “How do you fumble a man like Lincoln looking like that,”as if I’m ugly.
I know that I'm not a supermodel, but I'm pretty in my own right, and I clean up pretty nicely.
I've never been fat in my whole life, not like you can’t be pretty and fat, and while I do have a nice-sized ass and a bit chunkier thighs, that's something that my husband loved about me and that I love about myself. But it’s the ‘women supporting women’ types that will tear you down the fastest when you’re at your lowest.
Everygirl has self-esteem issues.
Mine was my hair when I was growing up, but I learned to love it.
Then it was my acne that I had well into my early twenties.
I covered it with makeup, but most of the time, especially when I was at home, I didn’t wear makeup.
